Stage Slap
by with-etoiles
Summary: How Santana wanted to react to Perfect, and how she didn't.


_Stage Slap_

Figgins delivered the blow to Santana as gently as he could; she was hereby suspended.

Finn stood up quickly, an idea brewing in his mind.

"What is it called in a play or movie where you pretend to hit someone but you don't?"

"A stage slap," Shelby answered.

"Yeah, that. It was a stage slap, that's what it was."

Will sighed exasperatedly behind him. "What's your angle here, Finn?"

Santana stood rim rod straight, trying to focus a baleful gaze on Figgins, but instead her eyes had another agenda. They were slightly focused downward, roving the floor in an inconspicuous way. What _was_ Frankenteen trying to accomplish here? What was truly his angle?

* * *

><p>"When you hide who you are, I feel like you hide some of your awesomeness with it. That's why you act out, because you hurt inside."<p>

Santana looked down. While she was not going to stand there allowing Jiggly mc Man Boobs over here to act like her freaking physiatrist, it also kind of hit home. Vulnerability was about the last thing she ever let show to people, and that was if her cutting words and violent nature didn't scare them away the first second they were alone with her. Truth was, she was still just lonely. She felt reallylonely. Sure, she still had Britts to quell her omniscient hatred of the world, but even Brittany couldn't fix everything. She had built so many walls throughout the course of her life that she was beginning to get to a point where she felt permanently damaged. All of these defenses did protect her, but it was like boxing in a garden to protect a single plant. Everything else would shrivel up and die, die without notice or care, and only the hardiest would survive. The hardiest and the coldest. The thorns that coiled around the rose. But even the beautiful rose, somehow surviving the plight of the thorns, would die under its constriction and lack of the light of day in the boxed in area. Her rose had been damaged, and all that she had left were the thorns. Even Finn's pathetic attempts at trying to break her out wouldn't work on her; she was too boxed in.

* * *

><p>Santana was still <em>extremely<em> upset about being forced into joining the New Directions in the choir room for Finn's stupid lessons. Why couldn't Finn just back off? She had taken his virginity, for God's sake, and it had all been for her benefit, none at all for Finn. She didn't even care about Finn at all, and she had made it clearly known. Why did he keep trying to make her care? She knew better than to believe the BSthat anybody cared about her, because they _didn't_. She never let anybody care about her, so why in the hell would anybody care about her?

* * *

><p>"Santana, Kurt and I have a song we like to sing each other in the car, and we wanna sing it to you right now."<p>

Oh, how sweet, the "gay power couple" of McKinley that sounfairly escaped the wrath of McKinley's lowbrow population, which consisted of overly sexual jocks (who were, like Finn, terrible in bed) and neglected scum like Jacob Ben Israel that somehow dominated the swing of the school's popular thought, were going to sing her a song. They were going to serenade her. Oh, and they sang this to each other in the car, because they love each other just so damn much. How cavity inducing _sweet_.

"I know it's hard, it was hard for me too. You can do this." Kurt gave her a despicably encouraging smile. Ugh, he disgusted her, how he had such a system of support and an open and proud boyfriend that pranced around the school practically imprinting a rainbow flag on everyone he met with his obnoxious smile. Ugh.

"If you would just stop being so… defensive," Blaine added.

Oh, she was being defensive now, was she? At least she had a reason to be defensive, whereas he got a free ride everywhere he went in this school.

Instead she said, "I'm trying" and then proceeded to use her foolproof scathing words on Blaine. Except he didn't seem fazed. He and Kurt just continued on with the song.

While they were singing, Santana kept a sadly familiar "wtf" look schooled on her face, but inside she actually felt herself beginning to care. Beginning to care that they cared about her, beginning to become vulnerable. Santana Lopez didn't do vulnerable.

After all, this was Lima they were talking about. They were all trapped in this miserable dump of a town, complete with homophobic boys that, had she not been so forcefully outed, she normally had wrapped around her fingers, and teachers and faculty that just seemed to _not care _about the slushies she had thrown in her face or the words that she imagined were tossed around behind her back. That's why she usually gave them a word to throw around about her, so that they would never find out what she really was. She would rather be a bitch than a lesbian to the vicious school population, but now she was a combination of both and she could do nothing to stop it. She had no more walls left to build.

And even then, as Blaine and Kurt sang to her about how she was perfect to them, she still felt bitter. Putting aside her obvious hatred for the world, she hated how Blaine and Kurt were just so _brave. _When she felt herself too close to admitting to them that she actually appreciated this attempt to help her, she kept repeating that she didn't, just to make it true. She had struggled so long and so hard with this, and she couldn't truly be herself around the school until she was forced too. Even though Lady Elf and Bowtie Blainers were undoubtedly the most annoyingly happy people she had met (well Kurt, not so much before, and she had respected his also blatant hatred for the world, but now he was making googly eyes at Blaine every chance he got and it frankly disturbed her, and she decided that that would only ever be ok if it was Britts making oblivious but madly in love eyes at her), they were still so freaking brave and she didn't know how to be like that. She wanted to ask them for help, and here they were offering it to her, but her pride and her walls held her tongue back. She almost started with the truth, thanking them with a smile, but soon her instincts cut in.

"You know," she continued, "with all the horrible crap I've been through in my life, now I get to add that."

Hummel's gaze turned vicious and Blaine just looked confused but still hopeful that they had helped. Santana smirked.

Even as she clapped her hands in mock reward, her insults still felt like more of a stage slap than an actual smackdown. And oddly, she was ok with that. In fact, she kind of _hoped_ some ounce of sincerity had gotten through her defenses. She was sure Kurt and Blaine were smart enough themselves to know that there was a place deep down inside of her where she could tell them that she cared, but right now she just couldn't manage the vulnerability to do it. It was an odd feeling for her, wanting someone to know how she felt. However, she went with it, because it made her feel a little loved, in a way that felt different from when she looked at Britt. It was different, but it wasn't bad. Still, it was too foreign for her, and she pushed it away.

She still kind of hoped they understood, though.


End file.
